As a journalist, I’ve had the chance occasionally to meet some famous people and even interact with them. Just a few weeks ago I joined many of my colleagues to hang out with noted author Dava Sobel, and I’ve taken classes from pretty famous physicists. I once even interviewed Neil deGrasse Tyson, trying to ask professional, interesting questions and not reveal how awestruck I was to be in the man’s presence. Until yesterday, that had been the undisputed peak of my career. Now, a new contender has emerged.
Accompanying Senior Editor Michael E. Bakich and Online Editor Matt Quandt, I got to interview and hang out with Grammy Award-winning group They Might Be Giants (TMBG) — my absolute favorite band. (Well, technically it was only half of the two-man band, but that just gives me something to shoot for next time.) It was pretty surreal to just chat it up with John Linnell (second from the left in image), a guy whose voice I’ve listened to for countless hours, spanning more than a dozen albums, over about half my life.
We caught up with Linnell just before the band’s October 11 concert in Madison, Wisconsin. They’re on tour to promote their latest album, Here Comes Science, which features four astronomy-themed songs. It’s the band’s fourth album for kids, and the third explicitly educational one (after 2005’s Here Come the ABCs and 2008’s Here Come the 123s). It’s a testament to their talent that these songs are just as much fun to listen and jam out to as their earlier, more grown-up releases — and I’m not just saying that because I own their entire collection.
TMBG has a particular genius for fitting interesting, catchy music around mind-bending concepts and words, whether an ode to how loud a nightclub can get (“Man, It’s So Loud In Here”), a ditty about a wannabe drummer with a ridiculous stage name (“Doctor Worm”), or one of their most famous numbers about a night light’s feelings of existential angst (“Birdhouse in Your Soul”). Who better, then, to take complex subjects like the color spectrum and the true nature of the Sun and set them to rock songs with good beats?
I was surprised how easy it was to talk to Linnell during the interview (perhaps because Bakich asked most of the questions). He acted like a regular guy, answering questions about his inspiration for “fact-based songs” and what it’s like to write educational songs that aren’t quite “thuddingly didactic.” He posed for pictures with us, casually shot the breeze before and after the interview, and overall was pretty friendly for a guy whose music plays on the radio, on TV, and in movie theaters.
After the interview, my wife and I stayed for the show, which was (naturally) a lot of fun. It was the first family-friendly TMBG concert I’d been to, and my fifth overall. At first we felt a little out of place as the only adults without children. We quickly spotted other couples, though, and soon got lost in the music. At various points we sang along with scores of 5-year-olds about the Sun, the number 7, and Istanbul not being Constantinople.
Once again, my chosen profession yielded unexpected benefits and a great time. So let that be a lesson to you aspiring writers, TMBG-fans, and everyone else: Dreams really can come true, and you don’t even need to wish upon a star — just know its chemical makeup.
Editor’s note: Stay tuned to Astronomy.com for videos of our visit with John Linnell.
Photo credit: Holley Bakich